Italian Offer
by Data Girl 3
Summary: Immediate sequel to Tangled Webs We Weave. The close-knit family bond the Bohemians have developed with one another has never been stronger. But no one knows that one family member might be leaving New York forever.
1. Strange Behavior

**AN: **If you haven't read part one to this story, Tangled Webs We Weave, I suggest you do so now. Otherwise, you will be lost. To those of you who have already read it, read on and enjoy.

* * *

Mark hurried into The Lion's Den on Sullivan Street. Inside, Roger was up on stage with his band-mates. Two of them Mark knew only by sight, but Robbie, on the other hand, he remembered from Roger's old band, the one he'd had before the heroin and HIV.

"Hey, Mark," Roger waved upon noticing the filmmaker. "Thanks for coming down."

"Don't mention it. Happy to help. So, where's the sound board?"

"Over in the corner. Emily's been trying to work with it, but she doesn't have the same level of expertise as you do."

"Wait. _Emily's_ trying to fix it?"

"Yeah. She's been going out of her way to do small favors and little things for us lately. Just the other day, I came home to find her allowing Mimi to do her nails, and we _both_ know Emily hates painting her nails."

"Hmm. Well, I better go give her a hand, then," Mark announced, making his way over to the sound board where Emily was trying, without much luck, to get it fixed. "Need some help?" Mark grinned, removing his messenger bag from his shoulder. Emily looked up and smiled back.

"Thanks, Mark. I guess I really am hopeless at this sort of thing. I'm a photographer, not a mechanic."

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure Roger and the others are grateful you tried, at least." Mark set to work on the soundboard before continuing his conversation. "Listen, Emily. Is something up? You've been acting rather… I don't know... strange lately."

"Care to explain that, Mark?"

"Well, don't get me wrong. You've always been nice and willing to help the rest of us out when you can, but lately, you're kinda taking it into overdrive. Helping Collins grade papers? Letting Mimi do your nails? And now trying to help Roger and his band get the sound system working?"

"Since when does someone need a reason to do nice things for her best friends?" Emily asked, trying to appear nonchalant. "Mark, believe me. Everything's fine. I just want to be a good friend, that's all." Despite Emily's assurance that there was nothing to worry about, Mark couldn't help but notice a slightly uncomfortable look in her hazel eyes. However, he decided not to pry. After all, Emily would tell him if it was something serious, wouldn't she?

"So, can I still help out here, or would I just be getting in the way?" Emily glanced down at the sound board.

"Well…" Mark thought for a moment, scanning over the piece of equipment. "You could slide this button up to the halfway point when I give the okay." Emily nodded in agreement and posed a hand on the indicated button while Mark moved to the other side to adjust some cords. In putting his attention on the cords, however, Mark failed to notice that Emily kept sneaking glances at him with a contemplative look on her face.


	2. Commitment Should Be About Compromise

**AN: **These two chapters are basically filler, but they do serve a purpose. Just a slight warning, Mark might be slightly out of character here, but I did my best, and hopefully I didn't make him too off. Anyway, on with the story.

* * *

"_Some friends become enemies  
Some friends become your family  
Make the best with what you're given  
This ain't dying  
This is living!"_

Roger pulled the strap of his fender over his head and made his way off the stage, wiping back his long, unruly locks which had become drenched in sweat from the heat of the stage lights, the applause still ringing in his ears. It had been a very long time since he'd experienced this type of high. When he'd first learned about his HIV status, he never thought he'd have the chance to be up performing on stage again. But after everything that had happened in the past two years, he was starting to get used to surprises.

Smiling widely, Roger headed straight for a table by the bar where his friend's Mark, Emily, Mimi and Collins had been watching him perform. As he approached, Mimi practically leapt to her feet and threw her arms around his neck, placing a large kiss on his lips.

"Roger, baby! You were amazing!" she beamed.

"The feeling is unanimous, Rog," Collins chuckled, passing Roger a Marlboro as the musician took a seat at the table.

"I just need to go on record, here," Emily announced. "Normally, I tend to stick to new age music, but I think I've just converted." Roger took a moment to analyze his friend. When they'd first met, Emily was never seen without her Yankees jersey and cap. But now, while the steadfast Yankees cap remained, she was sitting here in a yellow t-shirt and denim vest. She'd become much more confident, and started living for herself. The old Emily _never _would have left Penny with Officer Kurtz for the night to go to a club. Who'd have thought that someone could change so much in one year? Still, he could talk. Hadn't he changed in one year?

His thoughts were interrupted when Emily started talking again.

"Hey, don't look now, Roger," Emily pointed over his shoulder, grinning about something. "But you've got two wild fangirls who might be preparing to attack." Roger turned in confusion, but jumped to his feet at the sight of Maureen and Joanne.

"Great concert, Roger!" Maureen complemented.

"Maureen, Joanne!" Roger cried.

"Where've you two been?" Mark gaped. "We haven't seen you in half a month!"

"We even called Joanne's office!" Mimi added. "They said that you'd taken some time off, but couldn't tell us anything more! Where _were _you two?" Maureen and Joanne took a seat at the table before explaining their absence.

"Well, shortly after Roger and Mimi left for Niagara Falls," Joanne began, "Maureen and I sat down and talked. We brought up that… disastrous commitment ceremony when…"

"Well, you all know how it went," Maureen inputted. Joanne smirked before continuing.

"Anyway, we agreed that there were fatal mistakes about choosing that time and place. For starters, that high society atmosphere was just not right. Commitment should be about compromise, right? But, there wasn't much compromise back then. It was mainly me expecting Maureen to be something she's not, when I should have tried to meet her halfway."

"You two had an _eloped _commitment ceremony, didn't you?" Emily guessed. "Joanne's planning combined with Maureen's spontaneity." The dual smiles were enough to confirm Emily's deduction. Instantly, the Bohemians were all on their feet, congratulating and hugging them both. However, Mark found himself hesitating. They'd done it. They'd actually gone through with it. This was supposed to be great news. He should be happy for his friends. But there was a gnawing irritation inside of him.

"Congratulations," Mark finally spoke with an odd voice before leaving The Lion's Den. "I'll catch up to you guys later."

Outside the club. the filmmaker paused for a moment before starting to head up the street.

"Mark?" A concerned voice made him stop and look back to see Emily had came out after him. For a moment, the two stood staring at each other, but then Mark lowered his head and walked on. Emily moved to go after him, but Collins, who'd appeared behind her, held the photographer back. When Emily cast him a questioning glance, he simply shook his head.


	3. Filmmaker and Photographer

The dark city streets were nearly deserted, so not many people paid heed to the lone figure propped up against a street lamp, trying to fathom his thoughts through a fogged-over mind. Mark had no idea what was wrong with him. He was over Maureen. And even if he wasn't, he knew she was with Joanne. Then again, it was possible that the two actually going through with the commitment ceremony all the way made it real for him somehow, that it never truly clicked before today. It was official now.

"Mark?" The sound of someone calling his name seemed to come from far away, but the second time the voice called, it was louder and clearer. "Oh, merciful heavens, Mark. Exactly how much have you had?" Mark's mind was still slightly dazed, but he still registered the fact that someone was helping him to his feet. "Come on, then. Let's get you back to the Loft." Mark, too tired to resist, allowed this unknown friend lead him down the street. Moaning softly, he brought his head down to rest his forehead on the person's shoulder. In doing so, he was able to pick up a rather familiar mixture of smells, developing solution and chocolate chip cookies. He only knew one person with that particular smell.

"Emily?" Mark asked. His assumptions were confirmed when Emily's voice answered him.

"I got you, Mark. Seriously, though. How much did you drink?"

"Only a few shots," Mark confessed. Emily gave a low whistle, but his throbbing head made it sound extremely high pitched.

"Few shots, huh? Must have been some shots, then."

"Mmm. Jackson Five."

"Jackson Five? Isn't that the one with the 70-proof Jägermeister?"

"Probably," Mark slurred.

"Okay, that settles it. We're getting you back to the Loft. Although, I don't envy the migraine you'll have tomorrow morning, or the reprimanding the guys will be giving you. We've been trying to find you for over an hour now." Mark remained quiet for a long time as Emily led him back to the Loft.

"Thanks, Emily," Mark slurred. "You're always there for me, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Always," Emily's voice carried an intense note of remorse, but the alcohol in Mark's system prevented him from taking note of it.

* * *

"Any luck?" Mimi asked, as the Loft door opened and Roger stepped in.

"No," Roger shook his head, the worry evident in his face. "Where _is_ that little….? You and I both know how rough it can get out there, especially at this hour." Groaning in frustration, Roger crossed the room and collapsed on the beaten sofa, his head in his hands.

"Roger, I'm sure he'll be okay," Mimi tried to comfort her husband. "The others are out looking for him too, after all."

"We all were looking out there for _you _once," Roger remembered, his voice a pained whisper. "And it was almost too late when we _did _find you." Mimi bit her lip, recalling that fateful night.

"The important thing is that you _did _find me. And I'm still here." Roger looked up at Mimi with a tender smile.

"Yeah. We did, didn't we?" Without another word, Roger pulled Mimi to him, hugging her tightly. At that moment, the Loft door slid open and Emily stepped in, supporting Mark's limp form.

"Mark!" Roger leapt up. "Oh, Go…."

"Relax, Roger," Emily waved a hand to calm him. "He's okay. Just had a little too much to drink, that's all. Come on, help me get him into his bed, okay?" Roger moved over to assist Emily.

"Where'd you find him?" Mimi asked.

"Um…around Union Square. He said he had a few Jackson Fives, though he never said how many. Then, he threw up on my shoe. I'm just glad I didn't go with sandals, tonight." As Emily talked, she and Roger deposited the dazed filmmaker into his cot. "Thanks, Roger. I can take it from here."

"You sure?" Roger glanced at Mark, obviously wary about leaving his best friend in this state.

"Don't worry, I can take care of him," Emily assured. "I've dealt with children who had measles, mumps, chicken pox, and everything in between. It's late. You and Mimi need sleep. No sense in you two getting overtired. You'll make yourselves sick that way. No offense, but you and Mimi don't bounce back as easily as other people."

"Okay," Roger finally relented. "See you in the morning." The musician left Mark to Emily's care and made his way over to his bedroom with Mimi. In doing so, he caught Mimi's mischievous smile, the one she adopted when she was thinking about something. "What is it, Meems?"

"Oh, nothing," Mimi grinned. "I just can't help noticing, that's all."

"Noticing what?"

"Come on, Rog. You saw how quick Emily was to take up the task of looking after Mark. And that's not the only time she's been attuned to him. You didn't see, since you were on stage at the time, but I do believe I caught her looking his way a few times during your concert tonight." As Roger caught on to what Mimi was getting at, his face broke into an identical mischievous grin.

"Who'd have thought?" he joked. "The filmmaker and the photographer."

* * *

**AN:** I have never been drunk before, (the only alcoholic drinks I've had so far, apart from the wine at Church Communion, was this fruity mixed drink at my cousin's wedding, which I wasn't thrilled with, and this Creme de Mente-containing frozen dessert drink that tasted like a mint milkshake) or been around someone who was, so I'm not sure I accurately represented things here. So, I hope you'll forgive me if I got something wrong.  
P.S.: For those who've asked about the mysterious letter Emily received in the last story, I'll reveal what it was about in the next chapter. It might be a while before that's up, unfortunately. Teachers always start cracking the whip at Pre-Spring Break time. But I'll have plenty of time for updates when I get there. Until next time...


	4. A Better Job Offer

Mark woke up to a throbbing headache, and groaned softly. As he lay in his cot, trying to get the strength to sit up, he slowly became aware of a slight bit of weight next to him, the type that was felt when someone was sitting on your bed. Glancing over, he saw a sleeping Emily, her head resting on the cot, an arm tucked underneath it like a pillow. Had she been there all night? Feeling a sudden wave of gratitude toward her, Mark reached out and gently shook her awake.

"Hey," Emily smiled upon seeing Mark had woken up. "How's your head? You want some aspirin or something?"

"You didn't have to stay with me all night."

"Neither did you, back on that night I thought I was going to loose Penny. You still did, though." Slightly smiling at this logic, Mark pulled himself into a sitting position, which doubled the throbbing in his head.

"Here, take these," Emily reached into her pocket and took out a bottle of ibuprofen, explaining how she always carried it around for emergencies, also offering him her water bottle. Mark didn't have to ask why she had the water bottle. By now, it was common knowledge that Emily's diabetes made her thirsty more often then most people. Wordlessly, he accepted the pills and water bottle.

"Thanks again, Emily," Mark smiled in gratitude once he'd downed the painkillers. "What would I do without you?" Mark rubbed his eyes at this point, so he missed the pain in Emily's expression.

"So, you want some something to eat?" Emily asked, forcing herself to smile. "There was a sale on strawberry jam the other day. I could make you jam on toast. Best type of food for hangovers. At least, that's what I've read."

"That sounds good," Mark agreed, gingerly getting to his feet. He stumbled slightly from the sudden dizziness, but Emily steadied him by taking hold of his forearms.

"Thanks, Emily," Mark smiled softly.

"Of course," Emily grinned in return. The two were quiet for a moment, simply looking at each other. But then Mark cleared his throat and straightened up.

"So, could I have that toast, now?"

"Yes," Emily replied, looking rather disappointed. "Yes, you can." Emily and Mark left the bedroom. Roger and Mimi were already up, talking with Collins.

"Well, look who's up," Collins chuckled, noticing Mark. "How's the hangover, boy? Roger says you had quite a bit last night." Mark dropped onto the couch while Emily entered the kitchenette to make Mark's toast.

"I'd rather not talk about that," Mark groaned. "I was out of it last night." For a couple of minutes, the three friends talked about nothing in particular. During the conversation, Emily brought Mark a slice of toast topped with strawberry jam.

"Here you go Mark," she smiled. "Eat that, and make sure you drink lots of water. I'll stop by later to check up on you."

"You don't want to stay and have breakfast up here?" Mimi asked in surprise. "You _always_ have breakfast with us." For a brief second, Emily grimaced, but then forced another smile.

"Actually, Mimi, I should head down to Officer Kurtz's place to pick up Penny. I'll… have to take a rain check for that breakfast."

"I'll go too," Collins announced. "I need to head down to NYU, anyway. Catch you bi-ches later." With that, Emily and Collins left the Loft.

* * *

Emily accompanied Collins down the street. However, when they were about a block away from the Loft, Collins turned to confront Emily.

"Emily, I know there's something going on," Collins accused softly.

"Seriously, Collins. There's nothing wrong."

"Please, Emily. I can't tolerate having friends lie to me. I'm not an idiot, after all. I know that you're upset about something. We've all noticed it, so please don't deny it." Emily was quiet for a moment, but then turned to Collins, not even trying to hide the conflict in her face.

"Collins, do you remember how I've been constantly looking for a better job offer, for the sake of Penny?"

"Of course. What does that…? Emily, don't tell me…."

"Yeah. A letter came for me after that visit from Mark's parents a little over a week ago. I've been offered a position at this prestigious photography studio."

"Congratulations, Emily! That's great!" Collins happiness for his friend quickly vanished when he noticed Emily wasn't sharing in the excitement. "There's a catch, isn't there?" Emily nodded with a sigh.

"The job's in Italy. Penny and I would have to move to Venice."

"Oh," Collins breathed, starting to understand the reason behind Emily's strange behavior. "So… what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. It's a no-win situation," Emily groaned in conflict and took a seat on the curb. "If I stay, I could be throwing away a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But if I go… Collins, I might never see any of you ever again! Do you know how much plane tickets to Italy cost? There's no _way _you guys would be able to afford them."

"So is that why you've been trying so hard to do nice things for us?"

"Yes. If I decide to take the job, I'll be saying goodbye to you forever.

"Well, what're you going to do?"

"I don't know. When Penny was born, I always thought that her needs would be the ones that came first, and that I'd always choose what was best for her without hesitation. But that's when I met you guys. And now, whenever I think about accepting this job, I keep thinking about how much I'll miss all of you." Collins took a deep breath and sat down next to Emily on the curb.

"Emily, I want you to listen to me. I can't make this decision for you, but I can help you weigh out your options. We are Bohemians. We live by our arts, hoping that one day, it will pay off. I can't speak for everyone, but I don't think any of us want to spend our whole lives here. Like you said, you were always looking for a better job offer. Look at it this way. What do you think your brother, Zack, would have said? What would he tell you to do?"

"Zack." The memory of her beloved older brother brought a look of mixed emotions to her face. "He'd… want what was best for me. That's what he and my parents gave their lives for. So I could live my life as someone who had a choice, someone who had a chance. Someone who could walk on their own, and stand tall, and without shame. Someone who'd be able to live a good life."

"Well then?" Collins prompted.

"Well… I guess… I'm going to Italy," Emily decided. Nodding, and with a smile, Collins wrapped a supporting arm around his friend. "Collins?"

"Yeah?"

"Please. Don't tell the other's just yet."

"They'll need to know, Emily."

"I know that. But… I want to be the one to tell them. In my own way. It'll be hard enough saying goodbye. Having them chew me out because they heard through someone else would just make it harder."

"I understand. I won't say anything until you do."

"Thanks, Collins." Not another word was spoken as they continued walking down the street.

* * *

**AN: **There you are: the secret of the letter explained, along with the reason for Emily's strange behavior. Also, did you catch a little reference in here? Mark and Emily share a similar moment that Emily's parents had in the TSNE flashbacks, even though it didn't end the same way.  
Spring break has officially started for me, so I'll have more time for updates. Except for tomorrow. My best friend and I are going to my first ever concert. (I know, I'm extremely sheltered) Anyway, my brother got tickets for Josh Groban. After that, I'll be refreshed and updating as much as possible. So, until next time...


	5. Letters and Accidents

A week passed. Emily continued her act of aiding her friends in any way she could. And, true to his word, Collins kept Emily's upcoming move a secret. However, Emily still had great difficulty telling the others, even though time was quickly running out. Before she knew it, the day had come when she and Penny had to fly to Italy for the job interview. Emily was pacing the floor, trying to gather up the courage, but it wouldn't come. At that moment, she stopped in mid-pace, spotting a notepad sitting on her spool table next to her Nikon. Pausing only for a moment, she took a pencil and started to write a note.

* * *

Roger and Mimi made their way up the street to the Loft, coming back home from Mimi's dance class, which Roger had decided to walk her home from. The two lovers were off in their own world, whispering to each other with the occasional kiss. As they approached, however, they saw Emily getting into her van, with Penny already sitting in the passenger seat.

"Hi, Emily!" Mimi waved cheerfully. However, her smile faded when Emily looked up, revealing fresh tear stains on the photographer's face. "Emily, what's wrong?"

"I…" Emily looked away. "I'm sorry, Mimi, Roger. I can't stay. I gotta… be somewhere soon."

"Oh, sure," Roger nodded. We'll see you later, right?" Emily's reply came in a low mumble. But when Roger and Mimi started entering the building, she spun back to face them.

"Roger? Mimi?" Emily paused for a long moment before giving them both a warm smile. "Goodbye." Without another word, Emily got into her van and drove off. Once the van had turned the corner, they continued up to the Loft. Taped to the door, there was a single envelope, which Mimi removed before Roger opened the door so they could read it inside. However, on entering the Loft, all thoughts of the envelope disappeared from their minds. Inside, Mark was sitting dejectedly on the beaten couch, gazing at a strip of pictures from a photo booth, the same photo booth strip of him and Emily from when Mark's parents had paid a surprise visit and Emily had to pose as Mark's girlfriend.

"Hey, Mark," Roger greeted. "You don't know why Emily was crying, do you?" Hearing Roger's question, Mark looked up sharply.

"She was _crying_?" he whispered in a pained voice.

"Well, I think so," Mimi confirmed. "She had tears in her eyes, that's for sure. Then she drove off with Penny." Mark's face deflated even more then it had been before. "Why? Did something happen?" Before replying, Mark's head dropped again.

"Guys, I've…" Mark choked, sounding close to tears himself. "I've been… so stupid. So blind."

"What happened, buddy?" Roger asked in concern. Before Mark could answer, the phone rang. Mark quickly looked over at the answering machine, waiting for it to switch on.

_"SPPEEEEAAAAAK!"_

"Mark! Roger! Mimi!" Maureen's voice called out, sounding very upset about something. "Guys, you gotta get down to Joanne's and my place, quickly! Collins is already on his way! Please, hurry!"

"What's going on?" Mimi blinked.

"No clue. Better go and see," Roger shrugged. "Mark, do you want to…" Before Roger could finish, Mark was moving stiffly to the door, looking half dead.

* * *

At Maureen and Joanne's flat, Mark, Roger, Mimi and Collins sat by, waiting for Maureen and Joanne to tell them what was wrong. Maureen looked deeply distressed while Joanne seemed stunned.

"We… we were coming back from visiting Angel," Joanne began. "We found this letter in an envelope, taped to our door." With a shaking hand, Joanne handed to letter to Roger, who was the closest. The musician unfolded the letter and began to read out loud.

_Maureen and Joanne, my friends,_

_I hope you'll forgive me for not saying this to your face, but if you're reading this, that means you weren't home when I stopped by on the way to Nana's to drop off Wenceslas. If you had been home, I would have spoken to you in person instead of leaving this letter. I'm sorry to say I hope you're not home when I stop by. It's hard enough writing this. Saying it to your face would make it even harder, and doing so would probably give me second thoughts, something I can't afford to have._

_There's something I haven't told you. I received a letter sometime ago which offered me a position at a photography studio. Only, it's in Venice, Italy, and I'd have to move overseas. I've debated over this for weeks, and in the end, I decided to take it, for the sake of my little Penny. _

_When you read this letter, I will most likely be at the airport, boarding the plane for Italy so I can go to this job interview. I can't tell you how hard this decision was for me. But I really hope you'll understand. This is the big break I've been looking for, for Penny's sake. My family made every sacrifice possible for my sake. How could I do any less for my daughter? Perhaps one day soon, I can send enough money for all of you to come visit us in Italy. But until that day, I want you all to remember that you and the others have been the best friends I'd ever had, and I'm very thankful I met all of you. No matter what happens, I'll never forget anyone of you, and how wonderful it was, having you as friends, as a family. And no matter what, I'll always believe it was a lucky day for me when Mark crashed his bike outside the Center. Because that was, without a doubt, the luckiest day of my life, and no day could ever surpass that day in luck._

Roger lowered the letter and the entire room was deathly quiet. The silence was broken when the phone in the bedroom started to ring and Joanne silently went to answer it.

"She's gone," Mimi whispered, a mixture of shock and sorrow.

"So…" Roger spoke up. "That's what she meant. That's what she meant when she said 'goodbye'. She _meant_ 'goodbye'."

"I thought she'd tell you about this personally," Collins shook his head.

"You knew?" Maureen rounded on the anarchist. "You _knew _about this?"

"Yes," Collins confessed. "But she made me promise not to tell you before she did."

"That brat," Roger growled.

"Roger!" Mimi scolded.

"We saw her," Roger went on, paying no head to Mimi's reprimand. "We saw her, right before she drove off. She didn't say anything! She just went on acting like everything was fine. She didn't even _try _to tell us what was really going on."

"You know how Emily is, Rog," Collins reasoned. "She hates burdening others with her problems. Nana told us a long time ago. She tries to handle her troubles alone."

"But she's not alone!" Roger insisted. "She had us!" No one seemed to have a good reply to this until Mimi spoke up.

"We got one, too."

"What?" Roger looked over at Mimi, who held up a second letter.

"We found it on the Loft door, remember? We forgot about it when we saw Mark on the couch. It says the same things as Maureen and Joanne's letter. Roger glanced over the letter before lowering his head, covering his eyes with a hand, his anger finally overcome by sadness at Emily's departure.

At that moment, Joanne returned with a stunned expression, a hand over her mouth in shock.

"Joanne, baby, what's wrong?" Maureen asked in concern.

"That…" Joanne's voice came out in a horrified whisper. "That was Penny on the phone. It's Emily."

"Emily?" Mark, who hadn't said a word this whole time, shot his head up automatically. "What about Emily?"

"Mark," Joanne whispered. "There was an accident. She's been taken to the hospital!"

* * *

**AN:** I'm working on the next chapter at this very moment, so I hope to have it up soon.  
Well, Josh Groban's concert was amazing. I never imagined that he had such a great sense of humor to go with that voice. I have pictures that will eventually be posted on my account, but like an idiot, I left the output cord in my college apartment, so it would be a while before I can get it. So, until next time...


	6. The Confrontation

After what seemed like a lifetime on the subways, the Bohemians made it to Bellevue Hospital. Joanne led the way to the reception desk where a nurse was doing some work on the computer.

"Excuse me," Joanne began. "But we were told our friend was down here."

"Name?" the nurse asked, eying the appearances of the other Bohemians.

"Goodhall," The nurse typed something up on her computer and read the readout.

"We have _two _Goodhalls here" the nurse announced. "Which one are you looking for?"

"Both. One's our friend, the other is her daughter."

"Well, _Emily _Goodhall is still in ICU having the extent of her injuries evaluated, and no one but hospital staff is allowed to be in with her at the present time. But _Penny_ Goodhall is up in room 305. But I'm afraid I can't allow anyone but family in with her."

"It's alright, Nurse O'Hara," Nana spoke, appearing suddenly nearby. "They _are_ family."

"And you are?" Nurse O'Hara asked.

"Nana Chang. I'm Emily Goodhall's legal guardian. And you can let these people in to see Penny. Like I said, they _are_ family." Nurse O'Hara still seemed reluctant, but allowed the Bohemians to go with the elderly Asian woman to Penny's room.

Up in Room 305, Penny sat in the hospital bed, trying in vain to ask a doctor about Emily. The ten-year-old was mostly unharmed, apart from a series of bruises on her arm and a couple of stitches on her forehead.

"For the final time, Miss Goodhall," the doctor was saying. "We will inform you about your mother's condition when it's determined, and not a moment sooner. Now, please excuse me. I have other patients to look after. I'll leave you with your… visitors." Penny turned to the door, noticing for the first time the Bohemians had entered her room.

"You're here!" Penny cried, clearly happy to have them here.

"Penny, what happened?" Collins asked, coming up and wrapping a comforting arm around the child.

"We were on the way to the airport," Penny explained. "We were at this intersection, at a red light. The light turned green, and Mom pulled out. Then… there was this pickup truck that just tore out of nowhere, and it… it hit us." Penny suddenly started to cry. "Uncle Collins, Mom, she… she was just slouching in her seat,…. and she wasn't moving…. The doctors won't tell me anything! They just keep telling me they're…. checking her out, and trying to see how badly she's…. hurt, and…" The little girl was too wound up to continue, and continued to cry against Collins' chest.

"I can't believe this is happening," Maureen sighed. "What if Emily…"

"Emily will be fine," Nana stated. "She's a Goodhall. Goodhalls are durable by nature. Her mother was durable, and so were her father and her brother. And so is she."

As the others stood by, comforting each other and waiting for news on Emily, Roger glanced over at Mark, who hadn't spoken a word since they'd learned of the accident. Deciding enough was enough, Roger took Mark by the arm and brought him out into the hall.

"Alright, Mark. Now spill it," Roger instructed. "I've known you for almost my whole life. I can tell when something's up with you. Something happened with you and Emily before she drove off." Mark didn't reply and continued to look at the floor. "Come on, Mark, buddy. You're my best friend. What happened?" Finally, Mark looked up, meeting Roger's eyes.

"Roger, I've been so blind."

"What do you mean?"

"Emily. We were talking with each other, before she left." Mark looked away again, looking very upset.

"It's okay, Mark. Tell me what happened."

**Flashback**

Mark was in the Loft, pulling his messenger bag up over his shoulder before moving to the door. Upon opening it, he found a surprised Emily.

"Mark!" she gasped. "I thought… you'd be out filming something."

"I was just about too," Mark confirmed, following Emily's eyes to an envelope that had been taped to the Loft door. "What's that?"

"It's nothing," Emily said quickly. "Nothing important, anyway. I thought you said that you were planning on going out an hour ago."

"Yeah, but Maureen called, asking me for my help with something, so I had to go down and help her out."

"Oh. Help with what?"

"Nothing major. Just wanted me to run a few letters of hers down to the post office to mail them."

"Not to pry, but what was she doing that was so important? I mean, couldn't she have done it herself?"

"Oh, you know how Maureen is."

"Even so, she could have asked Joanne."

"It's no big deal," Mark shrugged.

"Let me get this straight," Emily groaned. "You put your life on hold to go down and help Maureen with something she could do herself, or could have easily gotten someone else to do?"

"I said it's no big deal."

"No big deal? Oh, Mark," Emily spat in disgust. "Why do you _do _this to yourself? Maureen left you, remember?"

"Yeah, I know that, thanks," Mark grunted.

"No, I don't think you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't be doing this."

"Doing what?"

"Living at her beck and call. Mark, you're not her personal messenger boy. You could have told her you were busy."

"No, I couldn't"

"Why not?"

"Because it's complicated!" Mark snapped.

"Mark! Do you have any idea…? I can't stand seeing you do this!"

"Doing what?"

"Listen to me, Mark. It's not you and Maureen anymore. It's Maureen and Joanne. I know how tough it must have been to go through that. I've been there, too. Remember? But at least I knew when it was time to move on. Mark, you're wasting your life pining for and running around for someone who doesn't love you, and is committed to another person."

"I am not!" Mark insisted.

"Oh, really?" Emily challenged. "Then tell me to my face, Mark Cohen! Tell me you don't love Maureen Johnson anymore!" Mark remained quiet, not saying a word. "Yeah," Emily nodded in disgust. "That's what I thought." With that, Emily turned to walk out.

"HEY!" Mark shouted after her. "What makes you think you can chew me out about this? I mean, what's it to you, anyway? It's _my _personal life, not yours. Why should it matter to you?" Emily rounded on Mark, her eyes burning with fury, frustration, and something else Mark couldn't identify.

"For starters," she hissed. "You're my friend, and I can't stand seeing my friend being strung along or torturing himself like this. And… secondly…" Emily's next action made Mark's anger completely disappear and be replaced with sheer surprise. Without so much as a warning, Emily had placed one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his head before leaning in and kissing him on the lips. It was nothing like the last kiss she'd given him, which had been soft and gentle, and which shouldn't have counted anyway, seeing how they were supposed to be pretending to be together at the time. This time, it seemed to be filled with multiple emotions, including discouragement, some anger, and a strong hint of sadness. It wasn't long before Mark found himself starting to respond and return the kiss. But just as he started to do so, Emily pulled away, looking back at him with a face filled with sorrow.

"Well, stranger things have happened, right?" she shrugged, backing out of the Loft. "Goodbye, Mark." Without another word, Emily turned and hurried out. This time, Mark was too stunned to call her back. Instead he stood where he was, absolutely frozen. Slowly, the feeling in his legs returned, and he moved instinctively to the billboard he kept fliers thumb-tacked to. There, up in the upper right corner, he kept the photo booth strip that he'd gotten during the time he and Emily had pretended to be together. Numbly, he removed the photo booth strip and went to the couch, where he sat and simply stared at the pictures of him and Emily, remembering how they'd laughed at them, especially the one when Emily had placed his glasses on her own face. And that was how Roger and Mimi found him a few minutes later.

**End Flashback**

When Mark finished, Roger stood there stunned.

"Whoa. Emily. Can't believe she had the guts to say and do all that," Roger muttered.

"You wanna know the worst part of it?" Mark mumbled. "Emily might die, and she wouldn't know."

"Know what?" Roger asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Roger, I've been so blind, like I said. I was so hung up on Maureen, I didn't see what was happening right in front of me. It… it just all happened so gradually, I completely missed it. It never really hit me until that one moment, when she walked out of the Loft. Now, it might be too late to tell her." Before more could be said, one of the doctors appeared.

"You two are waiting for news on Miss Emily Goodhall, correct?" the doctor asked.

"Yes. Yes we are." The doctor entered Penny's room with Mark and Roger to tell everyone what was going on.

"We've just gotten the results from our tests back," the doctor announced. "Miss Emily Goodhall has suffered some internal bleeding, and might have a few bruised ribs, although it's too soon to know for sure. And our x-rays show her leg has been broken in two places. But we've managed to stop the bleeding, and her leg has been set. She's stable enough to receive visitors. However, she's still very weak, and hospital policy states we can only allow one person in with her at a time."

"Mark, you go," Roger said, his tone indicating it wasn't a request. "Go on. Don't argue, you _know _you two have to talk." Mark looked like he was about to say something, but then closed his mouth and nodded, following the doctor out of the room.

* * *

**AN:**Next up- Mark gets to talk with Emily, so it will be a good one. Promise. It will be up soon, probably even later on today. Also, I can _almost_ guarantee this will be the last cliffhanger. At least, for this story.


	7. Give In To Love

**AN:** This chapter's short, but it's vital. Hope you enjoy it.

* * *

"Now remember, Mr. Cohen," the doctor reminded before sending Mark into Emily's room. "Your friend is very weak, and will probably still be sleeping."

"I understand," Mark nodded before walking in. However, nothing could have prepared him for the sight of his friend. This was the same person who cared for the unfortunate children of the Center, the same person who'd been prepared to face the street gang, the Rat Fangs, alone, the same person who'd fiercely chewed him out mere hours before. Now, here she was, lying in a stupid hospital bed, hooked up to a heart monitor and a respiratory breathing system. He couldn't believe how pale she looked lying there.

Slowly, Mark made his way to her side, taking a seat and reaching out for her hand, which hung limply in his hold. He suddenly found himself talking.

"Emily, I'm so, so sorry. This is my fault. If I'd gone after you, then you never would have driven off when you did, and you never would have been at that intersection when that truck came. Aw, fu-k it, Emily. What are you doing here? You don't belong in a place like this. You always had a fighting spirit. You have to get yourself out of here, Emily. Please. You have to, because you need to know. You need to know that you were right, about everything." Mark paused for a moment, hearing the sound of Emily's breathing change slightly, but when no other change happened, he went on.

"Emily, I'm _so _sorry it took me so long to realize it. And now…. Emily, there will... Maureen will always have a special place in my heart. But I don't love her. I love you. I'm such an idiot for not letting you know sooner, or not even realizing it until now. And because of that, you're here. It's my fault you're in this place. Perhaps… it would have been better for you if you just left me there when I crashed my bike outside the Center. Then, you probably never would have been in that accident." Mark couldn't go on, and bowed his head, feeling the forming tears stinging his eyes. Suddenly, Mark felt Emily's grip on his hand tighten, which made him look up quickly. Emily's eyes were open and focused on him, with a weak smile that could be seen behind her oxygen mask.

"And miss this killer reconciliation?" she croaked. "Not a chance, Mark."

"Emily!" Mark cried in relief. Emily's weak smile grew a little stronger and she reached out to lightly touch his cheek. That single touch gave him an instant urge to kiss her, but the oxygen mask was in the way. As if sensing his intention, Emily withdrew her hand from his cheek, and placed her middle and index fingers on the oxygen mask, above her lips. Catching on, Mark mirrored her action with his own. Simultaneously, they reached out and switched the location of their fingers, so Emily's fingers were on Mark's lips, and Mark's were resting on the oxygen mask. For the next few moments, they simply smiled at each other. However, they were interrupted by the doctor, clearing his throat in the door.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cohen. But I have to ask you to leave, now. Miss Goodhall needs to rest and recover from her injuries. You can come back and see her in the morning." Mark sighed and glanced back at Emily.

"Go on," Emily urged. "I'll be fine."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Mark promised, gently kissing her knuckles before getting up to leave. They kept hold of each others hands until Mark had moved out of reach. But he paused at the door, looking back at her tenderly.

_I love you_, he mouthed. Emily smiled at him.

_I love you_, she mouthed back. Mark finally managed to tear his eyes from Emily's face and followed the doctor back down the hall to rejoin her friends.

"So, when do you think she can be released?" Mark asked. The doctor frowned slightly.

"I'll be honest with you, Mr. Cohen. Miss Goodhall has received extensive trauma to her leg. After the bones have completely healed, she will need to remain here longer to undergo extensive physical therapy. Even then, I cannot guarantee she'll be completely the same again. But it's still much too soon to tell."

"But… she will live, right?" Mark turned to look at the doctor in concern.

"All things considered, I believe she will live. But like I said, with the trauma in her leg…"

"That doesn't matter," Mark cut of the explanation. "She's going to live. That's the only important thing. Thank you." The doctor nodded in understanding and left Mark outside Penny's room. Stepping in, Mark was instantly bombarded with questions on Emily's condition.

"She's going to be all right," Mark smiled, feeling the happiest he'd been in a long time. "Everything's going to be all right.**  
**

* * *

**AN: **And that will resolve all questions of Mark/Emily, I'm hoping. Right now, I'm wondering if I should split the next chapter in two, or keep it as one chapter. Hopefully, I'll figure it out as I write. Until next time,...


	8. A New Beginning

The months went by. While most of the Bohemians still hung around the Loft, Mark was rarely seen there. The filmmaker was practically living at the hospital now, visiting Emily in her room or filming her in physical therapy sessions. He only returned to the Loft at night when visiting hours were over. Except for today. Today, he was quietly pacing the Loft while Maureen, Joanne and Penny were sitting on the couch, occasionally glancing at the clock and ignoring Maureen's complaints that he was making her dizzy. The filmmaker only stopped his pacing when the Loft door slid open, and he turned to the newcomers, smiling widely. Roger and Collins were both standing in the doorway, helping each other carry Emily into the Loft, each with one hand around her back, the other supporting her legs.

"Thanks for the help, you two," Emily thanked as they carefully lowered her to the floor. However, Emily kept one arm on Collins shoulder until Mimi, who had been following close behind, handed her a hickory wood cane. "Thank you, too, Mimi." Emily slowly took a few steps forward, using her new cane, the one she now had to use for the rest of her life because of her damaged leg, as a support, and grinned up at the others. "Hey, guys. I'm home."

In a flash, Penny was on her feet, hugging her mother in greeting, Emily returning the embrace with her cane-free arm. "Hello, Penny. Were you a good girl while I was gone?"

"She wasn't any trouble," Mark spoke softly, slowly walking up to her with a gentle smile on his face. "Welcome back, Emily."

"Good to be back," Emily replied, returning the smile. Mark only hesitated a moment longer before he cupped Emily's cheeks in his hands, and leaned forward, kissing her softly. Emily responded by wrapping her arms around him and returning the gesture warmly.

"Well, it's about time," Roger smirked.

* * *

When night fell, Mark quietly left the Loft to go downstairs to see how Emily was on her first night back from the hospital. Down in her apartment, he made his way to the niche Emily's bed was in, pausing to pat Wenceslas' side, and looked in to see she was still awake, sitting up in bed and lightly fingering her bad leg. At that moment, Mark accidentally stepped on a loose floorboard, the creaking alerting Emily to his presence. Emily snapped her head up, quickly covering her leg with a blanket, looking slightly fearful.

"Mark, I…" Emily sputtered. Silently, Mark took a seat on Emily's bed, reaching out to uncover her leg. Emily let out a soft whimper.

"Mark, please," she begged. "You don't want to see."

"Let me be the judge of that," Mark insisted, slowly removing the blanket, exposing Emily's leg. The leg was now slightly crooked and swollen, with yellowish discoloring. Emily winced slightly, as if fearing Mark's reaction, but seemed surprised when Mark gently stroked the damaged leg.

"You're not repulsed?" Emily asked in surprise. Mark flashed her a smile before lightly kissing her knee.

"I didn't fall in love with you leg, Emily. Besides, you've been scarred before," To confirm this, Mark gently took Emily's arm and stroked a scar on her left wrist. It was the one she'd gotten when protecting Penny from the chain wielded by the Rat Fang Gang's leader, such a long time ago. "And when you think about it," Mark continued, "most of the discoloring and swelling will go away the longer your cast is off." Hearing that Mark wasn't too disgusted by the current condition of her bad leg seemed to relax Emily a bit.

"So, is that what you came down here for?" she inquired. "To give assurance?"

"Not really," Mark confessed, momentarily getting up to shift his position on Emily's bed, so he was sitting right next to her. "I just… wanted to be with you tonight. Is that all right?"

"I suppose so," Emily smiled in appreciation as Mark wrapped his arms around her to hold her close to him. "You don't have to, though."

"Yeah, but I want to." That seemed enough to convince Emily, who relaxed up against him.

"Rather ironic, when you think about it," Emily voiced after a long moment of silence. "Zack used to tell me to live without relying on a crutch. And here I am, having to use a cane for the rest of my life."

"Aw, Emily," Mark chuckled. "I don't think Zack meant that you were not supposed to accept help when you need it. You're only human, after all. That's why you got us. We'll always be around to help you out. We're your cane, always here to help you walk through your life."

"Yeah, and I'm going to need that, now that I lost the job in Italy. Missed the interview because of this, you know."

"Disappointed?" Mark asked.

"Mmmm. No, I don't think so. Because it's not just me and Penny anymore. There are other important things in my life, now."

"Such as?" Emily replied by turning her head and softly kissing his cheek.

"Such as you," Smiling, Mark kissed Emily's hairline.

"You'll find another job, Emily," he assured her. "You have a fighting spirit. You always have. And if it gets too tough, I'll be here to help you out, and so will the others."

"Thank you, Mark," Emily sighed, slowly slipping off to sleep. Sensing this, Mark buried his face into her hair.

"I love you, Emily. I love you, Cricket." Hearing the old nickname, the one she hadn't heard in over ten years, sent a small shiver of joy down Emily's spine, and she cuddled closer to him.

"I love you, too, Mark," Emily whispered, seconds before sleep started to overtake her.

Mark lay awake for a long time afterward, just holding Emily's sleeping form. He wasn't even going to think about daring to try anything. He knew full well of Emily's intentions of waiting until after she was married. He promised long ago that he'd never do anything to threaten their friendship. And that promise counted double now. He'd come so close to loosing her recently, in more ways then one, and he wasn't going to take that risk again. Instead, he'd go about showing her everyday that, while the job offer over in Italy had been a good offer, there was an even better one here in New York. After all, how often did someone find love?

* * *

**AN:** And that concludes this story. While I might throw in a one-shot or two, my next full-length RENT story will be my last one. It will be called Sunsets and Sunrises. So, be on the lookout. Until next time, this is Data Girl 3, signing off.


End file.
